Once Bitten
by soul9149
Summary: Sherlock keeps having dreams about Moriarty visiting him during the night, however Moriarty is a vampire with the taste for only Sherlock's blood, how will Sherlock overcome his new feelings, whilst trying to figure out an alarming case that has just popped up? And what happens when he finds out that these dreams are actual not dreams?
1. Chapter 1- First Bite

"": dreams.

 _Italics:_ thinking.

 **Bold** _:_ Letters and notes.

-/-: time lapse.

Chapter 1- First Bite.

* * *

 _"…beating heart. Panting breath. Hands gripping the sheets. Crimson blood sliding down an arched neck. Loud moans spilling from the open mouth. Sharp teeth biting into the pale flesh. Eyes wide open as they watched Moriarty retract his teeth to look up at him. Pupils dilated, Moriarty pants heavily as he gazes on his arch-enemy. He feels Sherlock's now paler skin under his fingertips, he sees the moister that had collected during the feeding giving him a shine in the dim lights. Moving up his body, Moriarty pressed his blood stained lips against Sherlock's. A moan escaping his lips at the taste of Sherlock's sweet taste and blood mixed together. Grinning as he pulled away, he leaned down so that his lips just touched the shell of Sherlock ear._

 _"Till next time"_

* * *

Sherlock was greeted by darkness when he opened his eyes. He stared up at his ceiling, he had soon become accustomed to the many dreams of Moriarty that seems to plague him in the night. It was always the same. Moriarty would appear at his side, whispering words about food and pray, and suck his blood until he was full, always giving him a quick kiss before disappearing for a couple of days. Running a hand down his face, he found that his cheek was covered in sweat, no doubt from the feelings the dreams seemed to cause him nowadays. Getting up, he walked to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, but not without looking at the clock first. The bright red numbers shown back at him, like they were mocking him. 3am they read. No wonder it was still pitch black outside he thought. However this was normal for Sherlock on nights that he had these dreams. He would wake up early in the morning and couldn't get to sleep, this also made time for him to settle down before John woke up to do some cases. Getting out of his thoughts, he reached over to turn the kettle on, hoping some tea may calm down his racing thoughts.

 _Why do I have these dreams? Why Moriarty? Why is he always bitting me like he's some sort of vampire?_ His thoughts consumed his head, even as the kettle whistled signaling that it was boiled. He didn't escape his thoughts until he saw a hand reach over and turn the kettle off from behind. Turning slightly he saw a half asleep John still in his pajamas standing behind him.

"S-Sherlock? What are you doing out of bed at this hour" he said sleepily. Turning around Sherlock took in the appearance of John. His hair was dishevelled, his eyes half closed and he was swaying slightly. Sighing he reached up to place his hands on both of Johns shoulder, turning him around and guiding him back to the bedroom while answering.

"Cases won't solve themselves John, no point sleeping when there might be a serial killer on the loose, why would I sleep when such fun is happening all around us?" seeing John nod, he knew he had got of this question for now, but come the morning he would have to answer more questions from John. Reaching Johns bedroom he opened the door and slightly pushed, watching as John went back to bed, he closed the door softly. Walking back to the kitchen to make his tea, he noticed that there was one already there waiting for him. _Did I already make myself one? Did John?_ Picking the cup up, he walked into their shared living room, going to stand over in front of his case wall. His eyes widened as he found a new note hanging from the center of his circle that he made.

 **Drink up, I'll be back soon. JM**

Glaring softly, Sherlock ripped the piece of paper of the wall and crumpled into within his hands. Throwing it the side, he placed hid coffee down on the side table, he entered his mind palace as he stared at the many connections he had made on his wall.

\- 2 Hours Later-

John shuffled into the kitchen, ready to make a cup of coffee for himself. Turning towards the living room he spots Sherlock staring at the wall, shaking his head he grabs his mug and goes to sit in his chair, picking up the paper as he does. He opens the paper seeing today's headlines staring back at him in big bold letters " ** _Local man found drained of his blood in front of kindergarten"_** **.** John stares at the headline and the over to Sherlock wondering if he had seen the newest headline.

"Sherlock you wouldn't of happened to see the today's headline yet?" he asked not looking over to see if Sherlock had even heard him.

"Hmmmm, 37 year old man, brown hair, blue eyes, David Simpson. Found at 7:30 in the morning, by a couple of early morning walkers. Two puncture wounds to the neck. Police think vampire. I of course do not" Sherlock said without moving to see the case folder that Lestrade had dropped off just half an hour before. John got up from the couch, to the open folder, picking up the case notes from the police reports already collected.

"So you going to take it?" said john looking up at Sherlock for the first time, to see him looking at a sheet of paper with intense eyes.

"Sherlock?" he moved closer to Sherlock, trying to see the paper that seemed to hold onto Sherlock's interest so heavily. Before he could however Sherlock turned and walked out of the living room and into his bedroom. The only thing he was able to see before Sherlock turned were two letters: **JM**.

A knock at the door had John turning around to see Lestrade standing at the door, heavy coat on, case folder in hand. Smiling, he walked back to the kitchen in order to make him a coffee.

"Sherlock in?" Lestrade said, grabbing the mug John held to him. Walking to stand in front of the open case file the Sherlock had on his desk.

"He went into his room about five minutes ago" John said pointing over his shoulder, going back to his couch and opening the paper again. This time reading the article written about the murder. Both man heard the door open at the end of the hall, and the footsteps of one Sherlock Holmes enter the living room, dressed in his normal, black pants, white shirt and huge coat. Looking at the two man, Sherlock help a smile that was boarder line serial killer.

"Come now men we have a vampire to catch" he said as he walked out the door and the down the stairs to the awaiting cab. This being a common occurrence, John and Lestrade followed Sherlock almost immediately, laughing softly at his actions towards the new case. However both were unaware of what there were to face upon arriving at the crime scene.

* * *

 _ **Hi Guys! This is Soul, and if you haven't guess this is my very first fanfiction. SO please tell me what you think, if you liked it, if you didn't, any review would help me out so much! I've been so nervous to post this, because I'm not confident in my writing too much. Hope you like the story, and where it will go, if you have any suggestion for the plot or anything please don't hesitate to tell me!**_

 _ **Soul.**_


	2. Chapter 2- Two Puncture Wounds

"": dreams.

 _Italics:_ thinking.

 **Bold** _:_ Letters and notes.

-/-: time lapse.

Chapter 2- two puncture wounds.

* * *

By the time all three man entered the crime scene, Anderson and his crew were already working away at the body that lay behind the yellow tape. Seeing Anderson, John quickly looked over to Lestrade for an answer as to why he was here. Lestrade, seeing this, shrugged and sighed. This was going to be a long night with these two working together.

"Ahhhh freak, I see you've finally decided to join us" said a voice from behind the group spoke.

"When a man is found with vampire-like marks, drained of blood and in front of a kindergarten, even I would get excited about this Donovan" Sherlock drawled, not even bothering to turn and face the woman. Looking around, Sherlock started to look around his new crime scene, already having 10 different scenarios in his head, but tossing some away as he looked around.

"Anderson what do you have so far?" Lestrade said, walking over to the body, but watching Sherlock out of the corner of his eye.

"37, found at 7:30am this morning, two puncture marks in the left side of his neck, about two to three and a half centimetres in depth. The newspapers are calling it a "vampire attack", which by the state of his neck, I'm starting to believe" hearing a snort from one of the corners of the yellow tape, Andersen looks up to see a smug look on Sherlock's face. "What you laughing about?"

"Only you Andersen would believe in Vampires" Sherlock let out a small chuckle before turning his back to Andersen beginning to examine the footprints that were situated beside the building, before continuing, "Once again Andersen you have proven to us how low your IQ is exactly, now if you wouldn't mind leaving my crime scene, some of us actually wish to get to the bottom of this" after saying this, John and Lestrade could be heard letting out small chuckles as they watched Andersen slump off after his forensics crew, making way for the Sociopath.

"John if you would look at the body, I would like a professional view" Sherlock stated, before walking off out one of the many doors that run alongside the building. John sighed and went to work, looking over the body he had been straddled with. He ran his finger along the puncture wounds, feeling to see if the weapon that made them had left any indent marks other than the two holes. Puzzled that he didn't find anything, he went on to check the rest of the body for any marks or wounds that could lead to the man lying here before him. This again puzzled him as he found no wounds or marks at all, _how could this be?_ John thought. He stood up and looked over to Lestrade, shaking his head and shrugging.

"There is no way, these two puncture holes made this man die from blood loss" Lestrade walked over as John pointed to the two holes. "There has to be some other wound to allow this much blood exit the body" A look of shock passed Lestrade's face, he knew John was a capable doctor, so if he is saying that there is nothing, there is nothing.

"John, tell me what you have found" Sherlock's voice broke the sudden silence, both men looking over to him as he stand in the doorway dusting himself off.

"How on earth did you get covered in dust?" Lestrade spoke up, trying to get the topic off of the body. Sherlock however did not look impressed at the sudden topic change.

"If you must know, Graham, I was testing a theory, which I have proved to be false, now about the body, John?" he said slowly, walking over to stand next to John waiting for his answer.

"It's Greg!" Lestrade yelled frustrated, but was ignored.

"Sherlock, there's nothing, I found nothing"

"How could you find nothing John, have you suddenly sunk back into being one of the simple minded, come now think, even you are smarter then this!" Sherlock exclaimed, making John jump at the sudden confession. So he thought. He thought over all the information that he gathered from looking over the body. _The two puncture wounds. No marks. No other significant wounds. No injection marks. Pale skin but not clammy. Dilated pupils. However his lips were bright red._

"Sherlock, there is nothing that could explain these types of signs" John says sighing. Turning to look at Sherlock, he watches as he stares over the body, nodding his head to nothing, obviously talking to himself again.

"That's where you're wrong John" Sherlock states slowly. Looking up at Lestrade and nodding, which seems to be his way of saying goodbye lately. He stood straight, pulled his coat around him tighter, and walked out the gate that ran around the whole school. John sighed and walked after him, knowing him wanting to stay and see what caused this man to die would be left unheard. He said a quick goodbye to Lestrade and promised to share any details that Sherlock presented later. After receiving a nod he went and found Sherlock had hailed a cab and was waiting.

"Thanks for waiting" his statement was proven untrue the moment it escaped his lips, as Sherlock seemed to be shaken out of a daze that he had as he stared at the buildings before him.

"Ahhhh John there you are, now hurry up, we have a lot to do" he said quickly, jumping into the cab and giving the address of, 221B Baker Street.

-Later that night-

John had just set a fresh cup of tea in front of Sherlock, and looked over the many pieces of paper that had accumulated on the floor since they had return home. A mumbled thanks was heard from the man sitting crossed legged on the floor staring intently at one piece of paper in particular. Walking around to retrieve his laptop, ready to write another one of his blog stories, he noticed the title on the paper. **Vampires and their Victims**. Shocked, John started to laugh which caught the attention of Sherlock, who looked up at him funnily.

"What's got you laughing?" he said returning to the papers in front of him. John however walked back over to the couch before he answered.

"Oh nothing, just the fact that this is the first time you have ever listened to Andersen" he said smugly, gaining another look from Sherlock, however this one was a mix of shock and mortification.

"Why would I ever take advice from that blubbering buffoon?" he asked quickly, but seeing he wasn't going to receive an answer since John had opened his laptop, he began again. "I'm only following every lead, you know I do this John, no matter how idiotic it may be" he said mumbling off at the end, as a piece of information caught his eye. **A vampires can drain the blood of an adult man in under 20 minutes, and will leave no unique markings other than two puncture wounds which are caused by their teeth**. Sherlock thought back to his examination of the body and sighed, it aligned too perfectly with this case, but it couldn't be vampires didn't, couldn't exsist. Shaking his head, he gathered up all the papers and placed them on the desk behind him, deciding that he must be tired if he was starting to think vampires were actually out there. Standing he bid goodnight to John and went to leave, but not before noticing that John had already started working on his latest blog. Picking up his now cold cup of tea, he walked through the kitchen and poured the contents into the sink, before heading to his bedroom. Upon entering he noticed straight away that his window was open. Scanning the room, he saw nothing out of place and no one in his room. He turned on the bedside table light and did another sweep, stopping when he saw a yellow sticky note on his mirror.

 **Come now Sherlock, don't tell me you're starting to believe in us Vampires. Be a good boy and go to sleep now, I'll see you very soon. JM**

* * *

 ** _Hey Guys, it's soul! So I am currently on the bus back from uni so I decided to write this, yay! So a lot has happened since I posted the first chapter, which thank you to everyone who has read it! And followed it! And reviewed it! You all helped make this chapter possible after this week. So one of my good friends died at only 15, I got fired from my job, cause apparently I didn't seem happy there, and uni is getting harder. But Ahhhh well, here is another chapter, that I hope you like! I will try and update regularly but if I stop for a bit please know that I have no abandoned it, I'm just stuck with uni. Before I go, I would just like to say a huge thank you to my beta: This-Pen-Name-Is-Too-Long, thank you so much for all the help you have given me to start this story, and all the help you will give me in the future! Thanks again guys!_**


	3. Chapter 3- John's Blog

"": dreams.

 _Italics:_ thinking.

 **Bold** _:_ Letters and notes.

-/-: time lapse.

Chapter 3- Johns Blog.

* * *

The tapping of keys could be heard throughout the apartment. A single light, highlighting a face in the pitch dark room, as John had once again been caught up with his blog writing. He sat back to admire the letters that littered his page. So far he had described how Sherlock had acted during the crime scene. He would normally start writing his blog as soon as the case ended. However this case was different, he had been inspired to write as soon as he saw the many pieces of paper on the floor and Sherlock in the middle thinking hard. He pinched the bridge of his nose feeling tired all of a sudden. Looking up for the first time in hours he noticed that it was pitch dark outside and no lights were on in the apartment. His eyes cast towards the stairs, not hearing anything coming from downstairs, _Mrs Hudson must have gone to bed_ he thought. Closing the lid of his laptop he set it aside on the coffee table, however did not make any move to get up. He sat within the darkness, just sitting there, letting his eyes adjust. After a couple of minutes he finally got up and walk softly and slowly through the apartment, to his bedroom however a sound caught his ear. It was coming from Sherlock's room and it sort of sounded like a moan. _I must be hearing things, Sherlock doesn't moan_.

He waited outside his door listening for another sound. Not hearing he sighed and pushed his door open and turning on the light, _I must be more tied then I thought, hearing things_. He changing into his sleep, he pulled back the covers and got into bed, laying there and listening to the many sounds that echoed throughout the apartment. Smiling softly, he closed his eyes and drifted off, but not without a last thought, _I must ask Sherlock what that sound was tomorrow morning_.

* * *

" _His hands were pinned above his head_. _Breath heating the skin behind his ear as his captor whispered sweet nothings. To anyone else this would be sweet, but as Sherlock's eyes roamed over the body pressing against his, Moriarty stared back at him, now having raised his head. To anyone else this person would have been welcomed, but just as always Moriarty had somehow sneaked into his bed while he was asleep. He stared up into the dilated eyes, watching as his blood dripped from the panting mouth. A moist tongue coming out to lick away at the blood that stained his lips. No matter how hard he tried Sherlock couldn't stop the moan the escaped him as he watched this. Knowing that it was his blood that had been taken, and by none other this his enemy._

 _But why did it have to be his enemy, why did he dream night after night, day after day, that this man would take his blood. And why would he dream that he liked it. Obviously seeing the look on his face, Moriarty started to laugh above him, his chest pushing more and more into him with each noise. Leaning down Sherlock felt his lips slide across his, a hand moving under his head picking his up until both sat on the bed, almost cuddling with each other. Moriarty's hands came up to cup Sherlock's face, holding their faces close, making Sherlock look at him._

 _"Do you still think this is a dream Sherlock? After all this time?" Moriarty whisper, his lips almost touching Sherlock's as he talked. Sherlock blinked back in response, he started into Moriarty's eyes. Getting more lost in them every second he looked._

 _"Sherlock, you keep staring at me like that, and oh the things I will do to you" he said licking his lips, moving forward slightly so their lips were touching slightly. Sherlock seemed to break out of the trace he was on and shoved himself backwards and out of Moriarty's arms, sprawling onto the bed. Growing softly, Moriarty lurched forward, pinning Sherlock down and moving to bite into his neck once more. Hearing Sherlock moan under him made the blood that was following into his mouth taste sweeter._

 _However before it could get any further a loud creak from outside the door was heard, and Moriarty ripped his fangs from Sherlock's neck, causing his to groan loudly in pain. Soon he felt the pressure of the body above him disappear and he was once again alone. He didn't more though, just lying there feeling his neck throb from the sudden bite. Groaning he rolled over, and proceeded to pass out."_

* * *

Sherlock woke with a start for the first time since the dreams started. His breath coming out in short pants, his hands gripping the bed sheets, his eyes wide open as he stared at the roof. Sighing, Sherlock draped his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, walking over to his chest of draws. Rummaging through them he pick out a white shirt and proceed to put it on, until he looked into the mirror that hung on his wall. He stilled instantly, his shirt hanging off of his body, not even having put it completely on yet, as he saw to red marks sprouting from his neck. He stared in shock at his own reflection, which for Sherlock was a feat in itself for he is never shocked. In this case though he was, his mind raced with question the top five being: _Where did these come from? There in the same place as they were in the dream? How is this possible? How am I going to tell John? How do I cover these up?_ Taking off the shirt he had chosen originally, he again searched through his draws for a one that would cover the marks up. He found a black turtleneck that he had forgotten he had and slipped it on. He looked at himself in the mirror once more, and tilted his head at the sight of himself.

He was wearing the black tunic, with black pants. It didn't look right. Opening another draw, he sort out some jeans that he knew he had but never wore. Slipping them on, he turned and headed out his bedroom door. He walked past John's room and saw it open, but not seeing him inside, he continued on to the kitchen. As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, he immediately noticed the note. **Sherlock, gone to get milk, be back soon, John**. Nodding he went into the living room, jumping into his chair and grabbing the vampire book he left on the table last night. He didn't want to believe but after last night and this morning, he might just have to. Placing a hand on his neck he felt the sting of the bites. Removing his hand, he opened the book to the contents page and looked for a heading that would tell him about vampire bites. Sherlock finding the right page sat reading, highlighting and storing parts in his mind palace for later use.

-30 Minutes later-

John finally arrived home to find Sherlock sitting crossed legged in his chair, with the book on his lap, reading the pages intently. He did a double take, as he took in Sherlock's appearance, never having seen him in jeans or a turtleneck for that matter. He smiled softly, it was nice to see him looking human for once, and to see him reading a vampire book was almost as shocking. He walked to the kitchen, placing the milk in the fridge and unpacking all the other things he had bought. He rustled about in the kitchen for about ten minutes, making both he and Sherlock a cup of tea. Picking up both of the cups he return to the living room, placing one cup next to Sherlock on the table, and placing his next to him on his table. Picking up his laptop he sat in his chair, opened it and began to write his blog again. Both sat in silence for a couple of hours, before heavy footsteps could be heard on the stairs. Next thing they knew Lestrade was in their apartment out of breath and holding his side, wincing. Both looked up to him in question.

"There's been another body found, this one however is different" he panted out.

"How?" Sherlock asked immediately.

"A note was left this time, and it's address to you Sherlock" Lestrade said. John's eyes widened at the statement, Sherlock however just sat there, not showing any emotion. He simply got up, grab his coat and headed out the door, not waiting for Lestrade and John once again.

* * *

 ** _Hey Guys, it's Soul! So here's another chapter! I really hope you guys like it. Thanks to everyone who is reading. Please read, follow and review! Until next time, soul :)_**


	4. Chapter 4- The First Of Many Letters

"": dreams.

 _Italics:_ thinking.

 **Bold** _:_ Letters and notes.

-/-: time lapse.

Chapter 4- The first of many letters.

* * *

Sherlock knew instantly that this crime scene was different as soon as he stepped out of the taxi. All commotion stopped and looked at him, worried and confused looks passed over everyone's faces. Sherlock however took no notice and continued to walk through the to the crime scene. He wasn't greeted by his usual 'freak' as Donovan looked up at him from the folder that she held. Instead she simply took a piece of paper out of it and held it out to him, a sad look passing her face. He took the paper from her but didn't make any move to look at it, simply put it behind his back and clasped his hands, walking over the new body. It was a playground this time, the body was found tied to one of the swing sets, from a distance it looked as if the man was just sitting there. But up close one could see the blood that stained his shirt collar, and the puncture wounds that adorned his neck. Even Anderson stepped back without Sherlock telling him to in another one of his low-grading insults. However this time he needed Anderson, although he would never admit it, he needed him.

"Anderson" he stated in a low voice. "Tell me, what have you found?" he asked, turning towards him. Now, normally Anderson would scoff at such a request, but this time he simply turned towards the body and started his explanation.

"Tom Sutton, 26, found at 8:30 this morning by an elderly couple who brought their grandchildren here to play. He has been strapped to the swing with rope, and has the same wounds as the first victim has" He handed his notes over to Sherlock, something he had never done before and would probably never do again. Sherlock took them from him and looked over them, nodding. Sighing softly as he saw Anderson had written Vampire and then a question mark at the bottom of the page. He looked around the playground. Tyring to see what the others could not. All his theories had vanished, just like at the first crime scene. He looked at Anderson's notes again, his eyes drifting to the word at the bottom of the page.

 _Vampires cannot be real. There is no scientific way they can be real. If they were I would know. Wouldn't I?_ That question struck a cord with him. Would he know if vampires existed or not if he didn't believe they did? This thought made him remember the note that Donovan had given him. He placed it into the notes he already had in his hands and opened it, reading it slowly.

 **Sherlock,**

 **I'm sure by now you're wondering how these crime scenes can be. How is it possible for such a crime to exist when the only thing possible for it to be, cannot actually exists? Sherlock I thought you were smarter than this and would have figure it out by now. Of course we exist, and we will only become stronger. However there is a way that you can stop these killings. Contact JM. He will tell you what to do. Oh and Sherlock to give you some extra motive. We shall begin killing every five days, and each time we kill the ages will become smaller, and just think, your latest victim is what, 26? So I suggest you contact JM straight away. We will keep our promise so don't let us down.**

He felt his stomach churn. Killing someone every five days and the age would only get smaller? Even he could not let that happen. But how could he contact JM? He felt eyes on him, and turned to see both John and Lestrade watching him. He stuffed the letter into his coat pocket, Lestrade not seeming to care as someone had already told him what it had said. He nodded to John asking him to begin examining the new body. He did straight away. While doing this Sherlock walked around the playground looking for something the others could have missed. Again he felt eyes on him, this time however when he turned he saw no one staring at him. He turned around again and scanned the surrounding streets. _Where could that gaze be coming from_? He asked himself

"Sherlock, come see this" He heard John call over to him. He turned and walked quickly to John, he knew he would find something, he always did.

"What did you find?" John moved the man's hair back to produce the two puncture wounds. He ran his finger along what seemed like the jagged edge of the bite.

"See this edge, its jagged. Like something was ripped out suddenly. Maybe the killer got frightened, or was found before he could finish?" Sherlock took a closer look and nodded, it wasn't much. But it was more than they had to start with. Handing Anderson's notes back to him he nodded his thanks. He stalked off across the playground over to Donovan and nodded to her. Both seemed shocked at the gesture but both returned it.

"John, I believe we have some research to do" he said simply not bothering to turn back, knowing John would follow. And he did.

-1 hour later-

Sherlock and John both sat in the living room of 221b, vampire books in hand. John had teased Sherlock for wanting to read them but soon quietened down when he started reading. They both read book after book. Writing detailed accounts on what they saw at the crime scene and what the book said. Unfortunately they matched. In normal situation this would be a great thing to find. But not when of the men sitting in the living room refused to believe such a creature existed.

"Sherlock this is incredible, these books depict our crime scene down to the very last detail, how can this be?" John mused.

"Imagination, crime research, making it all up. You know the usual science fiction story writing" Sherlock replied almost too immediate. Sherlock placed his book down and picked the note up once more.

"Who is JM Sherlock and why do you have to contact him?"

"No one and because more people will die if I don't"

"Do you know him?" John asked again

"I would like to think I don't, but I'm afraid I do" Sherlock replied almost whiney

"What are you going to do?"

"Contact him of course! Don't be silly John, this could be our murderer, why would I miss a chance like this" Sherlock said jumping out of his chair and heading towards his room. Closing his door behind him, he waited and listened, soon hearing the usual taps of John's keyboard. He stripped out of his coat, hanging it as always on the back of his door, and walked to the mirror. He pulled down his turtle neck to inspect the bite marks. Still there. Both were redder then before, and still as painful. Placing the clothing back over them, he went and sat on his bed. _Think Sherlock think! How can you contact JM? The only time I see him is when I am asleep?_ He looked outside of his bedroom window to find the sun had barely reached the middle of the sky yet. _It would too risky to just take a nap in the middle of the day, but what can I do?_ He was pulled out of his thoughts when his phone sounded in his coat pocket. He stood and retrieved it. Unknown sender. Opening the mail he stared at it, puzzled.

 **Sherlock,**

 **I know you want to meet me. I'll be around in the next couple of days so wait for me my precious snack. Be a good boy and I might even answer some question for you. Till then.**

 **JM.**

He thought about deleting it, but chose otherwise when he remember that this is the only contact he could have with JM. He placed his phone into his jean pants and walked out his door and into the living room once more. Only to find it empty. He stopped and listened, he heard John's voice downstairs. He must be talking to Mrs Hudson. Walking over to his chair he sat. Sat and thought. JM or Moriarty as he should start calling him, was going to come around if he was a "good boy". He would have to make sure he was here whenever he decided to make an appearance. He didn't want John or anyone else to walk in on him and throw him out or worse call the police. He needed answers and if Moriarty was the only way he was going to get them, well he was going to get them no matter what it took. He pushed himself up and crossed his legs underneath him on the chair, deciding to go into his mind palace to investigate his own mind for answers.

This is how John found him moments later. Legs crossed sitting in his chair, eyes closed. He came up here to ask a question but it could wait. Sherlock never responded once he had entered his mind palace. John sat in his own chair again and pulled his laptop onto his knees. This time however he didn't go onto his blog but to a word document instead. One in which he been writing in for a while. People had like John's blog so much that he decided to try his hand at writings stories. So far he had finished one chapter, and was currently working on the second. He felt so proud to see his words upon the screen and knowing that it was all from his imagination and the world around him. That is how the two flatmates stayed that night. One in his mind palace and one writing his story. Both trying to prepare for what was going to happen over the next couple of days.

* * *

 ** _Hey everyone! Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favourited and reviewed my story. It is thanks to you that these chapters even happen, without your support I would be left with no motivation to write so thank you! I just want to tell you that I have recently uploaded a new story it's called: Veela's, Vampires and Werewolves, Oh My! So I hope you can go check it out and tell me what you think. And don't worry I won't forget about this one, I'll make sure to do regular updates on both, again thank you to all of you who have read this story, I hope you like this chapter! I would like to dedicate this chapter to twisted gentleman, who is going through a rough time right now, this is for you my loyal friend so I hope you like this!_**

 ** _Soul_** ** _J_**


	5. Chapter 5- Movie Night

"": dreams.

 _Italics:_ thinking.

 **Bold** _:_ Letters and notes.

-/-: time lapse.

Chapter 5- Movie night.

* * *

Watching movies together, had become a thing for John and Sherlock to be caught doing nowadays. The morning of, Sherlock would chose a selection of movies from their impressive selection they had managed to build. John would then pick three out of that pile that he wanted to watch. Sherlock would then make the final decision of what they were going to watch. Most times the movie was either some childish nonsense or a very interesting crime adventure. Although completely out of character for both men, they used this time to collect their thoughts, and have time to get away from the cases that plagued their minds day to day. Tonight's movie was Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, one of John's favourites apparently. Sherlock could see why though, a mad scientist that creates a machine that could make food out of water, it goes ballistic, flies up into the sky and creates food ten-times as big as it normally would. Sherlock had laughed the first time John had asked to watch it with him, but agreed to it anyway. He had to admit it was an interesting movie, the pure science behind it was intriguing, he wondered if it was at all possible. Sherlock turned to see Mrs Hudson at the door, watching the two with a soft smile. Sighing, he got up quietly and walked over, however John didn't seem to notice, already thoroughly engrossed in the movie.

"You sure love your movie nights don't you Sherlock?" she asked quietly. Sherlock gave her one of his trade mark smile.

"It's one of the only times I've ever seen him completely relaxed and forgetful of the outside world." Mrs Hudson hummed in response, handing Sherlock a letter.

"This was slipped under the door. Now I haven't open it, but its address to you" smiling once more she turned and made her way down the stairs.

"Thank you Mrs Hudson" he said, turning and walking back to the couch, careful not to disturb John as he got comfortable again. Opening the letter, he was met by a riddle,

 **I'm teary-eyed but never cry.**

 **Silver tongued, but never lie.**

 **Double-winged, but never fly.**

 **Air-cooled, but never dry.**

 **What am I?**

A look of shock and confusion travelled across Sherlock's face. _Why a riddle? Am I supposed to answer it? There's no sender. It's probably just a joke._ Sherlock conversed with himself, until John pulled him away by asking him a question. He looked up to see Johns lips move but no words come out. It took a while but finally the world came back. Seeing that he had not been heard properly, John repeated the question.

"I asked if you wanted to get dinner. The movies over, we could start a new one if you wanted to, but I, for one, need food" Without waiting for a reply, or knowing he wouldn't get one, John got up and walked to the draw they kept all of the take-out menus in and picked up his favourite. Although the menu was packed full of choice they always seemed to get the same thing. John always got honey chicken and rice, while Sherlock got a special beef fried rice, with extra egg and bacon. Sherlock listened as John ordered, smiling to himself as he heard John order for him, already knowing his usual. He didn't normally eat, but for some reason whenever they had their movie nights, John got him to. He had taken a liking to beef fried rice, although he had never eaten it as a child. The last time he had eaten Mycroft had looked at him with some sort of distain and comment on how he could eat the food of a back allay restaurant. Sherlock had then proceeded to shove a spoon full of the rice into his brother's mouth to shut him up. Remember what John had said, Sherlock moved over to the pile of movies that made up the watch list and picked one of, dare he say, his favourite. He placed the disk into the player and sat back on his chair, waiting for John and the food to arrive. The usual knock at the door indicated to both men that the delivery person stood outside. John opened the door with his usual smile and grace. He said thank you and paid for the meal, hurriedly closing the door and placing the take-out on the table. Sherlock watched as John hurried around the kitchen getting plates and preparing the meal, although being take-out John still liked to serve it like any other meal. He brought both plates back over to the two couches and handed Sherlock his while sitting in his chair. Upon grabbing the plate Sherlock noticed that John had slipped some of his chicken onto it, and some of his had been put on Johns plate. John had always told him how good the chicken was but Sherlock had never tried it, but now he did. The usual theme music started to play of the movie as, Now You See Me, started to play. He would never be able to tell you why he liked this movie, he just did. It was another one of those movies that intrigued him. Magic, deception and mystery, all catered to his inner child.

"John, I have come to the conclusion that we might be dealing with a vampire after all." Spluttering was heard from Johns place on the couch. Sherlock turned to see John staring at him in disbelief.

"B-But you don't believe in vampires! You're messing with me aren't you?" Sherlock smiled and shook his head. He did indeed think there was a vampire involved, he didn't fully believe himself however, until the riddle. One which he read in one of the many vampire books he had been reading. The riddle's an easy one if you think of it, it depicts of the one thing that can kill a vampire. Funny isn't it? That a vampire can be killed by such a small thing like that. John still stared at Sherlock in disbelief, so he decided to explain.

"I have gone over every possibility as to what could have made those marks on the victim's necks, I've researched, yes using your computer John, every possible tool that could be used. There was only one thing however that kept popping up every time I searched. A vampire, John. Those marks fit perfectly with a vampire's. I know someone like me would normally never believe such a low-class fairy-tale like a vampire, but then I received this." Sherlock held out the note he had received for John to grab. John read over the riddle, frowning in confusion. "If you were paying any attention to the books I have had you reading the past couple of days John, you would notice that this poem is mentioned more than once with each book. I did not make the connection however as to why, until I received it today. This riddle John, depicts how to kill a vampire. Now, either we have a vampire hunter telling us how to kill our murderer, or we have a very real vampire showing us he is indeed real." John continued to look at him in confusion. "Oh think John, the letters! The one at the crime scene, the one today. One telling me to believe, the other showing me something that only a vampire or someone heavily into the belief of vampires would know"

"So you're saying you believe in vampires now?" John asked, his voiced laced with concern.

"Maybe not in the very existence of vampires but that there is a person out there with Vampiric tendencies" John sighed, he knew Sherlock didn't truly believe in vampires. Hell would freeze over first before Sherlock believed anything Anderson made a comment about. John watched as Sherlock turned back to the movie. He too turned back towards the television screen, to see one of the main characters being interrogated by a policemen.

"So are you going to tell Lestrade about your findings?" Sherlock scoffed at the very idea.

"Of course not John, he would think I've gone mad. No, I will find who is really behind these killings and stop them, just like I always do"

"Like _we_ always do."

"Right, we always do" John gave Sherlock a look that said he didn't believe him. Seeing this out of the corner of his eye, Sherlock smirked. He would never tell John, but he valued his opinion above most people. Sherlock thought about their relationship. _If someone were to walk in here and see us now, they would think us a couple_ , he thought to himself not bothering to keep the laugh that the thought gave him in. John looked at him suspiciously.

"What are you laughing about?"

"The movie John, the movie" he replied instantly. Both men went back to watching the movie becoming engrossed almost straight away. In his head Sherlock spoke along with the characters, saying their lines. He didn't know why but his mind found them important so it hadn't deleted them yet. Turning away from the movie once again he looked over at the note one final thought entering his mind. _Who could have sent me it and why?_

* * *

 ** _Hey Everyone! Here's another chapter just for you! I really hope you guys are liking this, I would love to hear more from you about it, it would not only keep the chapters rolling but it would also tell me if I'm doing a good job. Thanks to everyone who is reading this, I love you all! Please read, review, follow and favourite!_**

 ** _Soul :)_**


	6. Chapter 6- JM Finally Visits

"": dreams.

 _Italics:_ thinking.

 **Bold** _:_ Letters and notes.

-/-: time lapse.

Chapter 6- JM Finally Visits

* * *

It had been exactly four months since Sherlock had last met Moriarty in his dreams, and he would hesitantly admit that he missed him. He had gotten so used to waking up in the dream to find Moriarty above him, or lying next to him. They had started talking a lot more. Moriarty would stay around for hours after 'doing the deed' and just talk about everything. Most of the time, Sherlock was in a state of near unconsciousness, but he could always hear the calm and steady voice by his ear. Moriarty would talk about nothing and everything, about plans he was going to make, about the stars, about what he thought about Sherlock. It was almost relaxing.

Sherlock had tried to keep his mind on the case, but as more and more time passed Sherlock became almost worried. _What could he be doing? He always came at the same time on the same days, no question. So where is he?_ A hand waving in front of his face brought Sherlock out of his thoughts. He looked up at the face of Lestrade who was now standing in front of him, his normal posture of his arms crossed had been taken.

"So?" Lestrade asked.

"So what?" Sherlock retorted.

"What have you found?" Lestrade asked, voice strained, as he gestured to the new body that lay before them. Sherlock looked back over at the corpse that John was inspecting. Walking past Lestrade, he walked up behind John, watching as he observed the body, seeing the look of pure determination on his face.

"John, what have you got?" Sherlock said quietly. John stood and not even looking at the man beside him, started to answer.

"Sherlock, it is the exact same as all the other ones. Two puncture wounds on his neck, drained of blood, no other marks or wounds that could cause the loss of blood." John finally looked up at Sherlock, a defeated look on his face. "Sherlock we need to do something, the victim is only 20. They are getting younger just like the note said." Sherlock nodded. That was the problem, and they were indeed getting younger. They needed something, just a little something to put them in the right direction. He turned around to Lestrade again and gave a small sigh.

"Please tell me you have something?" Looking a bit taken back by the question, or maybe the use of the word 'please', as he looked over his notes from Molly about the other victims.

"Sherlock, I just don't know what to say. We have never come across this kind of thing before. We really don't know what to do." Lestrade looked as frustrated as they all did. No one had come any closer to the truth on what had happened. The only person with a theory was Anderson, and Sherlock was damn near ready to believe it. He had confessed to John that he thought that someone with Vampiric tendencies could be doing this, but now he was doubting even himself. A shiver coursed through Sherlock's body as he felt a set of eyes on him. He turned around to look at the crowd that had gathers outside of the yellow tape, trying to find the eyes. He scanned the crowd until he came across them. A man in a black trench coat, stood off to the side of the crowd, his eyes never leaving Sherlock's as he walked towards him.

"Sherlock! We found something!" John's voice pulled his eyes away from the man for a second. Sherlock nodded in John's direction, before he turned back. The man had gone. The crowd seem to swarm the area in which the man had just stood, as if he had never been there at all. Shaking his head, he started to walk the perimeter of the yellow tape, trying to convince himself that that had been his intention in the first place in the first place, before walking back around to where John and Lestrade were standing, talking rapidly. Coming to a stop beside John, Sherlock glanced at the piece of paper he now held in his hand.

"This was just given to the police, it's the same riddle as the one we got back in the house, except there's more." John handed the letter to Sherlock, who quickly read it over;

 **I'm teary-eyed but never cry.**

 **Silver tongued, but never lie.**

 **Double-winged, but never fly.**

 **Air-cooled, but never dry.**

 **What am I?**

 **I have given you plenty of time to answer the riddle Sherlock, but have not received an answer. Is the riddle too hard for your tiny mind? Don't worry though, I'm going to give you another chance, we shall meet again soon Sherlock. Till then my little snack.**

 **JM.**

 _It is indeed the same riddle, so he did want an answer hmmm?_ Sherlock thought to himself.

"Who gave this to the police?" Sherlock inquired, finding it funny that someone would just hand over such information.

"A bystander came up to us and handed it over" Lestrade answered, taking the note back from Sherlock. It was evidence after all.

"Right. John come on, we're going home. There is nothing more we can do here." John nodded, shaking Lestrade's hand in goodbye. He followed Sherlock as they walked to the main road to catch a cab. John however stopped as he was about to enter the cab and clicked his fingers.

"We need milk!" Sherlock nodded, yes they did indeed and a few others household items as well. "Did you want me to go to the store and get everything?"

"If you wouldn't mind." Sherlock stated simply, seeing John nod he told the cabby to head to 221B Baker Street. John didn't enter the cab though, as the store was just down the road. He opted instead to walk to the shop and catch a cab home after completing his shopping.

-30 Minutes Later-

Sherlock finally arrived home, the cabby seeming to have taken every back allay on the way. Not being greeted by Mrs Hudson, Sherlock assumed she had gone out, which wasn't unusual nowadays. Climbing the stairs and entering the flat, he noticed the unlocked door, the teapot boiled, and a cup of tea steaming on his table. He walked into his bedroom, and hung his coat on the back of the door like normal, noticing that his bedroom window was ajar. Walking back out, he saw the figure in the window. He knew it was Moriarty, but was it really? _My mind is playing tricks on me, he is not here. He can't be, it is not night, I am not asleep._ Shaking his head, he walked over and sat in his seat, picking up the tea that sat on the table next to him, and took a sip. It was made just the way he liked it. Not even John could get it this good. The only person who could was Mycroft. Sherlock scoffed. _Mycroft hasn't made me tea in years_. Pulling out John's laptop, he opened it up to the case files he had been looking at before they were called away this morning. The figure moved from the window, to come and sit in front of Sherlock in John's chair.

"Are you not going to say hello, dear Sherlock?" Moriarty asked softly. Sherlock ignored him, researching the web for known cases of vampire sightings. _If I might be dealing with one, I might as well learn as much as I can about them_. Sherlock thought to himself, smiling slightly. "I'm teary-eyed but never cry. Silver tongued, but never lie. Double-winged, but never fly. Air-cooled, but never dry. What am I? What am I Sherlock? Surely you have figure it out by now."

"Mercury." Sherlock mumbled. Moriarty smiled and chuckled.

"Very good my dear, you have done your research." Sherlock nodded. Although he didn't believe Moriarty was actually here, he wasn't going to ignore his imagination.

-40 Minutes Later-

John unlocked the door to be greeted by Mrs Hudson, who had arrived just five minutes before. She had a mix of confusion and worry on her face.

"You might want to check on Sherlock, ever since I've been home he hasn't stopped talking to himself." John sighed, just like Sherlock to worry Mrs Hudson. He nodded and began to walk upstairs, walking straight into the kitchen without looking at the lounge room. Putting the shopping bags on the counter, he unpacked the two very full bags.

"Sherlock do you want a cup of tea?" John called out, putting the teapot on for himself.

"I already have one." Sherlock replied simply. Nodding to himself, John waited for the water to boil before making a cup of tea. Once finished he carried his cup into the lounge room, walking over to his seat, to find someone already sitting there. He stilled when he saw who though.

A crash alerted Sherlock that John was standing right beside him, he looked up and was confused by John's expression. John was shocked still, his cup having crashed to the floor as soon as he had seen Moriarty sitting there without a care in the world.

"S-Sherlock, why is Moriarty in our apartment?" Sherlock stared at John and then Moriarty who sat there smiling. _Oh shit. He's real._

* * *

 ** _Hello everyone who is still reading this! I really hope you guys are liking this, I'm trying to make it as exciting as possible for you! Now this chapter is the one I have been dying to write, the first meeting between Moriarty and Sherlock. Thanks to my awesome beta, This-Pen-Name-Is-Too-Long. Now I have to warn you from this point on it will be getting sexual, because they are now meeting, I hope that doesn't turn most of you away, but that is why I have put it under M. I still don't know how long this Fanfic will be, but I'm trying to make it as long as possible while not making the chapters super short! Anyway, read, follow, favourite and review, I love to hear from you guys!_**

 ** _Soul :)_**


	7. Chapter 7- He's Real!

"": dreams.

 _Italics_ : thinking.

 **Bold** : Letters and notes.

-/-: time lapse.

Chapter 7- He's Real!

* * *

 _"S-Sherlock, why is Moriarty in our apartment?" Sherlock stated at John and then Moriarty who sat there smiling. Oh shit, He's real._

* * *

Sherlock couldn't move. He sat there staring at Moriarty's smiling face. He had been here for who knows how long now, and Sherlock had just sat there, pretending he didn't exist. Moriarty could have done anything and Sherlock wouldn't have paid attention to him. _What is wrong with me? Surly I of all people would have known he was real. What is he smiling about? Is it because I've been pretending he doesn't exist?_ Sherlock sighed, and looked over at John, pretending to be in control of the situation.

"Oh, didn't I tell you he was going to stop by sometime this week?" Sherlock said simply, looking back at the laptop in his lap, he ignored both Moriarty and John now.

"Hmmm I did tell Shelly that I would be dropping by." Said Moriarty while standing up and heading into the kitchen. Hearing the name Sherlock looked up at Moriarty with a glare.

"There is only one person who can dare call me that and get away with it, and he has seen me naked more times than I would like to admit." Moriarty turned and smiled almost cheekily, while John gaped at the two. John was lost for words, these two were supposed to be enemies, since when were they on talking terms? Rustling was heard from inside of the kitchen, both men stared, as they watched Moriarty move about the room. When he came back in he was balancing three cups of tea on a tray. Handing one to John who grabbed it with a shaky hand, he placed his down on the table next to John's seat. He handed Sherlock his, which was grabbed almost instantly.

"T-Thank you Moriarty." Stuttered John.

"Oh please, call me Jim, after all I'll be staying here for a while." Answered Jim. John and Sherlock both looked back up at Jim at that statement.

"You're staying here?" John asked, taking a sip of his tea unconsciously, gasping at how good it tasted. Moriarty smiled and chuckled into his tea softly, before nodding. Sherlock nodded as well and took a sip of his tea, noticing that it was made exactly how he liked it. A knock at the door alerted all three men to the two figures standing at the door. Lestrade and Mrs Hudson both stood stunned at the scene they had walked in on.

"Would anyone like to explain why Moriarty is sitting in your living room?" Lestrade said loudly. Sherlock and Jim looked at each other, before turning back to Lestrade and telling him the story, right from the first dream.

-2 hours later-

They didn't think it would take two hours, but after being stopped every five minutes for questions it had dragged on and on. Both Sherlock and Jim sat slumped in their chairs, resting a new cup of tea in their laps, looking tiredly at each other. Lestrade and John stared at the two in shock at what they had just heard, never in their wildest imagination could they have predicted a story like that would come out of them. Mrs Hudson, as always was the first to talk.

"So, I guess we will be needing to find you a room then Mr Moriarty?" Jim looked over at the women and smiled softly.

"Please Mrs Hudson, Jim if you will. And it's not trouble, I will just room with Shelly, just like always." If you had asked Sherlock if he had blushed at that he probably would have punched you. Mrs Hudson though couldn't help but laugh at the statement, she nodded and smiled. She always knew Sherlock was gay and even though he was a criminal, she was glad Sherlock finally had someone of interest in his life.

"Now I dare say it's time for bed. Shelly, going to join me?" Jim asked softly, a smug looking grin gracing his face. Sherlock looked up at him and shrugged, they needed to talk anyway, what harm would it be to do it in the bedroom.

"Yes I do say it is time for bed. Goodnight all. Oh and Lestrade, if you're going to stay the night, I'm sure John will spare a place in his bed for you."

"SHERLOCK!" Both Lestrade and John screamed as they watched him follow Jim down the hall.

-In Sherlock's Bedroom-

Jim threw himself onto the bed and folded his arms behind his head. Sherlock, ignoring him started on his normal bedtime routine. He pulled off his outer jumper, folded it and placed it on the desk in the corner. Opening his dresser draw he pulled out a pair of his tracksuit pants which he had taken to wearing to bed. Without acknowledging Jim he swiftly changed into the pants, now wearing only those and a simple white t-shirt. He turned around to see that Jim now lie on the bed only in his jeans. Sherlock's eyes ran over Jim's body, seeing a long and jagged scar that ran from his left shoulder to his right hip.

"So, I take it you want to talk my little snack?" Jim asked, patting the bed next to him, inviting Sherlock over. Taking the invitation, Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed facing Jim. "Ask anything you want my dear."

"Why?" Sherlock asked simply.

"Why What? You have to be more precise, my dear." He answered, sitting up his face coming closer to Sherlock's. Moving back a little, Sherlock thought of his question more carefully.

"Why me?" He felt Jim's fingers slowly start to create small designs into his hand. Sherlock felt a shudder run through his body, which confused him. _How can such simple touch affect me in such a way?_

"Why you? Hmmmm, because you intrigue me. You challenge me. You complete me?" He started to run his fingers up Sherlock's arms. Tracing different patterns as he went, he chuckled as he felt Sherlock shudder under his touch. "Because I crave you, I need you, I want you." His fingers reached Sherlock's chin, cupping it, he brought their faces closer. "Does that answer your question my dear?" Blue eyes looked into brown, not being able to break the connection. Jim leaned in slightly, feeling the blood under his skin heat up. Sherlock's mind was blank, he fought for a thought, any at all, but he couldn't grasp one. Before they knew it, their lips had connected. A soft kiss was shared between the two men, one they had never experienced before. Both of Jim's hand came up to cup the sides of Sherlock's face, putting more pressure wanting to feel more of Sherlock's lips. A slight moan escaped Sherlock's lips, as Jim pressed harder. The long time that Jim hadn't come to Sherlock at night seemed to have taken its toll on both of them. Pulling back Jim looked at Sherlock's face, seeing the softest of blushes grace his face. _Cute_ , he thought, running a finger over Sherlock's lips. Sherlock had many more questions but with the way that Jim was leaning again, he had a feeling they would have to wait.

* * *

 ** _Hello everyone! So another chapter! Hope you like it, I'm so excited cause this is the start off all the smexiness that I want to write! I hope you guys like the little teaser I wrote in this chapter. Oh by the way, even though I said that John and Lestrade might have something, that doesn't mean they do, I have another idea in mind for both Lestrade and John, so bear with me. Again hope you like it! Follow, Favourite, View and Review!_**

 ** _Soul :)_**


	8. Chapter 8- Settling in

"": dreams.

 _Italics_ : thinking.

 **Bold** : Letters and notes.

-/-: time lapse.

Chapter 8- Settling in.

Sherlock didn't know when they feel asleep, but it must have been sometime during their make-up session. Which Sherlock was still having a tough time believing he let Moriarty, or even another person corner and control him like that. Sherlock was currently in a position that he had never thought possible for him. Wrapped in another's persons arms tightly, while that person slept. Moving his head slightly Sherlock stared up at the man who had caused him troubles for months. Jim Moriarty, a man who appeared out of nowhere and into his life, giving him a sense excitement due to all the cases he had brought forward. Moriarty surprised him though, he would have thought that he would be more defensive in this situation. But here he was, fast asleep, cradling Sherlock in his arms as if this was a common occurrence. However thinking about his dreams of late, it might just have been a common occurrence. Sherlock shifted, wanting to sit up, but by doing so, Moriarty's arms slipped down to now hold his waist instead. Sherlock now sat with his back leaning against the head board and a still sleeping vampire in his lap. If anyone had walked in on this situation he would never be able to explain himself. And however how much he wished that no one would, of course someone did.

John walked through his door after knocking carefully. Spotting the cuddling couple on the bed and stopped dead in his tracks and started at them. Seeing the look of confusion on his face, Sherlock just shrugged, leaning over to grab the paper that sat on his bedside table. John shock his head and placed a cup of tea where the paper just was. John had come to start making Sherlock a cup of tea in the morning, leaving it on his bedside for when Sherlock wakes. Of course that was when Sherlock actually went to sleep.

"Did you want me to make another cup for him?" Asked John softly. He may not like Moriarty, but he had never liked to wake up sleeping people early in the morning. Sherlock looked down at the man now snuggling deeper into his lap, and sighed before turning back to John.

"It might be a good idea. We don't know what he's like in the morning yet." Sherlock stared, reaching over to grab his cup of tea as John headed for the door again.

"Ok, I guess I will just make it like yours then." Sherlock nodded to John in a silent thank you. John nodded back, walking out the door and to the kitchen, leaving the bedroom door open. Moments later he was back, placing another cup of tea on the bedside table, waiting for the vampire to wake. "So Sherlock, what are we going to do about him?" John asked, standing next to the bed and looked over the man still sleeping.

"Who knows John, I want to get as much information as I can out of him. Then we will see what happens." Unknowingly to Sherlock, he had started to run his fingers through Moriarty's short hair. John watched in fascination as how Sherlock acted around the man, he had never seen him more comfortable around another human being. Not even Sherlock acted like this to John, which kinda made him jealous of the sleeping man. Both men looked down at the man suddenly when he decided to roll over and snuggle into Sherlock's legs, rubbing his head against them like a cat. John chuckled at the action, thinking how unlike Moriarty it seemed, and how odd it looked.

"I'll just leave you and our new resident vampire alone then shall I?" Said John still chuckling. John had thought about the issue very seriously last night. If Moriarty was going to stay here for a while, then John was going to crack as many jokes as he could in the meantime. Sherlock gave him a critical look and smiled softly, knowing John was going to have a blast while Moriarty stayed with them. Sherlock then looked down at the vampire again, seeing the man's deep eyes looking up at him, with a cheeky smile on his face. John had just walked out the door, so he was on his own. Great.

"How long have you been awake?" Sherlock questioned softly. Moriarty turned over onto his back, his head still in Sherlock's lap.

"A little while, enough to hear Watson call me a vampire." He said chuckling. Sherlock's hand remained on Moriarty's head, still stroking his finger through his hair, messing it up more than it was. Moriarty smiled softly and closed his eyes. "Hmmmm you're being touchy this morning, what's changed my Darling?

Sherlock scoffed, Darling? Who was a Darling? Sherlock stared down at Moriarty, seeing that although he was now awake he was still open to any attacks that Sherlock could think up.

"Darling?"

"Yes my Love?" Moriarty replied instantly, knowing it was a question but wanting a bit of a laugh. Sherlock flicked his ear in irritation. "Fine, what do you expect me to call you, my little meal?"

"Sherlock, or Holmes, preferably not Holmes. But only one of them." Sherlock replied, sitting up a tiny bit more, but regretting it when the back of Moriarty's head fell more into his lap. His head not brushing against his member.

"Hmmmm do you really want me to call you that though? My names seem to be having some effect on you, my Dear. Or are you just happy to have me in your lap?" Moriarty said, borrowing his head into Sherlock's lap more causing him to tense slightly. Sherlock had had enough, he chucked Moriarty out of his lap, and threw his legs over the side of the bed. Noticing the cup of tea still sitting on the bedside table he looked back over his shoulder to the man.

"John made you a cup of tea by the way, drink it before it gets any colder, or don't, I don't really care." Sherlock said as he stood, making his way out of the bedroom, leaving the man still lying on the bed with a big smirk on his face.

-2 hours later-

John, Sherlock and Moriarty sat in the living room, none were talking but after the incident earlier this morning, none of the men minded the silence. About an hour before, Moriarty had come out of the bathroom freshly showered and walked into the living room. He had thank John for the tea saying that it was perfect and then seeing Sherlock, had come over and sat on the ground in between Sherlock's legs. John had had a massive laughing fit, while Sherlock had stilled but not said anything as the man pulled a book from under the table next to him and started reading. Slowly John had settled down and Sherlock had gone back to normally now focusing on his work. The men now sat an hour later still in the same position as all three men were focusing on the different activities they were doing. John was writing yet another chapter of his book, Moriarty was reading and Sherlock was creating a document full of questions he wished Moriarty to answer.

Sherlock needed answers, and normally he wouldn't put so much effort into making questions for a man sitting in front of him. However Moriarty was different, and he felt it necessary to prepare for what would be a long and frustrating conversation. Moriarty knew Sherlock wanted answer, and he would give them to him, but at a cost. Moriarty was still trying to decided what cost that would be out of the many, many he had come up with. He knew Sherlock had never been sexual with anyone else, so maybe he should start small. Like a kiss? Moriarty's eyes lit up before his book. A kiss was perfect. Sherlock would think of it as nothing, that until Moriarty surprised him with the catch he had just come up with.

John looked over his laptop to the two man before him. He smiled at the sight to two were making. They already looked like a married couple and they hadn't even done anything. When John had first seen Moriarty sitting in their apartment he had been shocked. Little did he know of the dreams that Sherlock had been having for months. John knew that Sherlock never shared anything with him, but he thought they had come to a point in their relationship where Sherlock could at least tell him about this. He looked back at the screen in front of him, re-reading the last paragraph he had just written. Somewhere between the start of the chapter he had written a couple of days ago till now, a mysterious character had been written in. This character being a lot like Moriarty. John knew this morning when he woke up that his and Sherlock's life would be different for as long as Moriarty was in it. But was that a good thing? Or would Moriarty destroy Sherlock like John hoped he didn't. John just hoped that Sherlock would think his feelings of wanting Moriarty stopped, to be feelings of love.

 ** _Hello my Lovely's! How are we all going? I am so sorry I have been away, things have just been so hectic. But since I am now off on a small break, I will try and update as much as I can! I hope you guys are still liking this story, please tell me if you are, I love to hear from you guys! Follow, Favourite and Review!_**

 ** _Love you all!_**

 ** _Soul_** ** _:)_** ****


	9. Chapter 9- Conflicting Minds

" _Italics_ ": dreams.

 _Italics:_ thinking.

 **Bold** _:_ Letters and notes.

-/-: time lapse.

Chapter 9- Conflicting Minds.

* * *

Sherlock sighed as he watched the crime scene clean-up crew roll in. he sighed again as he watched them take away the fourth victim to be connected to the case. This case was officially frustrating him. Not only did he have no leads, but the only person who could give him leads kept keeping him quite with kisses. He ran a hand down his face at the thought, thinking how much he sounded like a high school girl with a crush. Keeps kissing me to keep me quiet? What am I some teenage girl who needs a guy to tell me what to do? Blood hell, I am a grown bloody man. Speaking of a certain someone, he looked up to both John and Jim stood, noticing the way they had eased in conversation since he left them. Deep down, deep, deep, deep, deep down, he was jealous, which was an insane thought for Sherlock to have. He didn't get jealous, especially over a man who is drinking his blood, without consent, every other night. The clearing of a throat to his left notified him that Lestrade had finally decided to let him do his job, which involved telling the man what to do.

"female, seven-bloody-teen Sherlock, brown eyes, red hair. Oh, but there is something different this time. She doesn't have a throat! This is getting ridiculous," Lestrade told him through clenched teeth, looking him straight in the eyes. "What am I supposed to do Sherlock? How am I supposed to explain to my superiors that I can't catch this guy?"

"Tell them the truth," Sherlock replied casually.

"I will lose my job, Sherlock!"

"Oh don't be so dramatic Greg, you won't lose your job," Sherlock says, looking at the inspector from the corner of his eye. "If it does come to that, I want you to trust me that I will not let you lose your job." He continued before turning and walking towards his friend and newly acquainted vampire housemate. He could feel Lestrade's eyes on him as he walked, but not looking back to acknowledge the man further. John looked over when he noticed Sherlock walking towards them, already pulling on his coat without question knowing they were leaving by the look on his friend's face. Moriarty smirked as he watched the two man, had it been anyone else he might have seen John as a threat, but by the way, both his and the inspector's eyes wondered whenever they were together, that didn't seem to be the problem. Both men parted as Sherlock walked between them, John falling behind the man, whilst Moriarty linked arms with the detective and walked beside him. Sherlock looked at him out of the corner of his eye before rolling them and walking briskly towards the main street, John smiling the entire time making sure to catch up to the duo. The cab ride home was surprisingly a chatty one, well not Sherlock thought Sherlock was as always in his mind palace, whilst John and Moriarty chatted about the next weeks shopping list of all things.

-At 221b Baker Street-

Upon arrival at their ever so cosy home, Sherlock jumped straight onto Johns laptop, pulling up the many word documents he had on the case so far, before adding his recent findings. John headed straight to the kitchen putting the kettle on and setting up to make the three of them a cup of tea. While Moriarty headed to the bedroom he now shared with Sherlock, stripping down before heading towards the bathroom for a shower. Hearing the shower turn on John looked over at Sherlock who had not taken his eyes off his work.

"You not joining him?" John asked softly, placing his tea in front of him, chuckling softly as Sherlock's fingers jolted to a stop over the keyboard.

"Why would I join him, in the shower John?"

"Because, I'm sure he would like it," John replied with a smile, heading back towards the kitchen to clean up. Sherlock looked up at John then back to the laptop sitting in his lap, before closing it slowly hearing the click as it shut. Before then men could do anything else, however, a loud noise was heard from the bedroom, causing Sherlock to bolt up out of his seat and head towards the noise.

"I better go see what that noise was." He said quickly, causing John to smile softly to himself. Before going back into the lounge room, grabbing his unfinished book, before curling up on his seat.

-In the bathroom-

Sherlock bounded through the door, causing Moriarty to look up at him from the bottom of the shower with a start.

"I-I heard a noise." Sherlock stuttered out. Causing Moriarty to start chuckle uncontrollably, while Sherlock walked towards and into the shower, leaning down to pin the laughing man to the wall.

"Do not laugh at me," Sherlock grunted out, making Moriarty laugh at him even more, moving his arms up to wrap around the now soaked man.

"Mmmmm, I quite like this wet look you're going for right now." He said softly, running his hand through Sherlock's dripping hair smiling. Sherlock stared back blankly, kneeling down between the man's legs, only now just realising that although he was fully clothed Moriarty was nowhere near as dressed.

"How come you're on the floor Moriarty?" Sherlock said coldly, watching as the man smiled showing off his vampire sharp teeth.

"There's this thing about vampires Sherlock if we don't get our mates blood say every 4-5 days we don't function, it's been 3 days, however, I have been living off your blood every day so my body is going through withdrawals." He replied calmly, leaning back against the cold tiles, his arms dropping to his side. Sherlock sat back against the door of the shower, looking at the vampire in front of him, amazed at how he would show this weak side of him. Sherlock was confused, he had never felt this way towards another human being before, and he didn't know how he felt about it. His mind was conflicted between kissing the man in front of him and letting him take his blood and standing up and leaving the man to his weakened state.

"S-Sherlock," Moriarty said weakly, now dropping his act around the man now that he knew the new situation. His conflicting minds were making it harder and harder for Sherlock to watch the pain in the man's face. He watched as the man's breathing shallowed and his eyes dropping closed and he knew he had to do something now. Deciding for the first time in his life to listen to the human side of his brain, he leaned forward and gently kissed the man, noticing the slight coldness of the lips beneath his. Leaning in again, Sherlock pressed his lips harder against Moriarty's, shuffling closer so he could hold the man in his arms as he did.

"Jim, take what you need." He said softly, not truly knowing why he was saying the things he was saying. He should be focusing on the case, but instead, here he sat, under the shower, holding a vampire, offering up his blood.

"I-I can't….I may be a lot of things, Sherlock...But I'm not going to force you to feed me, not anymore." Moriarty whispered against Sherlock's lips.

"Please, don't grow a conscious now, just take the dam blood before I come to my senses, you stupid vampire." Sherlock bit out, seeing the fire light in Moriarty's eyes as he said the statement. Before he knew it, he had the man attached to his neck, biting him hard, causing him to wince. _Remember you asked for this Sherlock_ , Moriarty thought to himself as he bites harder, moaning as blood gushed down his throat, the taste more heavenly then he remembered. Sherlock wrapped his arms around Moriarty, holding him close trying to ease the tension on his neck, but knowing that the man needed the blood more then he needed it in his body. Hearing him moan, however, caused a reaction to Sherlock he had not thought he could have. Feeling something poking at his stomach Moriarty's eyes widened, _He's hard! The great Sherlock Holmes is hard!_ Both men could not believe it, who knew the great detective could even have such bodily reactions from just hearing someone moan. Surly he had trained his body to not react to such stimulant, and yet here they were pressed up against each other In the small confinements of the shower. One man moaning at the taste of the others blood and the other with a raging boner. Neither truly knowing how this encounter would change their relationship but by the look in each other's eyes, surely it couldn't be that bad. Right?

* * *

 _So….Hey, guys! Long-time no see. And I mean very long time no see. I am so sorry for the wait on this chapter, I cannot believe it has been so long since I updated and I am so sorry for that. First off, I would like to thank everyone who read, followed, favourite and reviewed this story even though it was inactive, you guys were the driving force for this chapter. Without you, I don't know how much longer it would have taken to come out, but it's here. Secondly, so many things have happened to stop this coming out Sooner. I got engaged! I left school. I became an aunty twice. I enrolled back in school now studying writing as a profession. I was very very sick for a long time and I have been having difficulties with my health. So I'm really sorry I haven't been able to write in a long time, however, it shouldn't happen again, but if it does make sure to scold me! Hahaha, anyway I hoped you enjoyed this chapter because there are many more to come, both in the crime scene and the bedroom. Thanks to everyone who reads my writing, I never did think I would ever post something on fanfiction but here I am chapter 9 and still going, so thank you to all of you. Anyway enough from me, I hope you like the chapter and as always, read, review, follow and favourite._

 _Love you all,_

 _Soul :)_


	10. Chapter 10- Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas everyone!

Hope you all have an amazing day and get everything you could possibly want.

Also want to wish everyone a Happy New Year, cause 2017 cannot come soon enough for some people.

Love you all.

See you all in the new year.

Soul :)


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